


Avengers and Agents

by Skyepilot



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), The Avengers (TV)
Genre: 60s, Doctor Doom - Freeform, Euphemisms galore, F/M, Flirting, Kissing, Marvel - Freeform, Might regret this later, Oh history, Only getting sillier from here on out, Retro love, Romance, Sillyfic, Time Travel, Yes I'm going there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-09
Updated: 2014-06-14
Packaged: 2018-02-03 23:49:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1759979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyepilot/pseuds/Skyepilot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coulson and Skye meet up with Emma Peel and John Steed courtesy of Doctor Doom's Time Platform.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Abductions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skye and Coulson are transported back to the UK in 1965.

LONDON, 1965

"The Americans have an agency," said Steed, holding out the directive as he walked into Mrs. Emma Peel's living room.

"Oh, goody," said Mrs. Peel, sounding rather bored from her couch.

"S.H.I.E.L.D.," he continued, spelling out the letters.

"Shield?" she asked. "Whatever does it mean?"

Steed flipped the paper over front to back.

"It doesn't say," he shrugged.

"Are we to go and meet them, then?" asked Mrs. Peel, sighing. She was thinking about changing her shoes for this.

"I suppose," said Steed. "Do you think the coffee is decent?"

"Knowing the Americans," nodded Mrs. Peel. "The coffee is quite good and indecent."

***

LATVERIAN AIRSPACE, 2014

"Skye," Coulson said, looking back at her. "This weapon is very dangerous."

"It's not like we have the budget to shoot it to the sun," she replied.

"A helpful reminder," he answered sarcastically.

They were in the interrogation room on the Bus.

"I was thinking we might drop it from 35,000 feet," he continued. "See if it breaks."

"And what if it doesn't...?" she began.

"Over the Himalayas?" he shrugged.

"A.C.," she said. "We just stole a time travel platform. From Victor Von Doom's castle."

"I know," he said, excitedly. "Feels pretty good."

"Don't you want to go somewhere?" she asked. 

"No," he started. "No. NO."

"When Steve Rogers became Captain America?" she said, pointing at him.

"Skye," he said, closing his eyes. "This is exactly why we have to destroy it."

"I can meet my parents," Skye said.

"Remember when I told you that nothing alien in human hands ever ended up well?"

She nodded.

"Time travel is a million times worse," he gestured toward her. "You can change the entire course of hist..."

"Coulson," May said over the com from the cockpit. "We're about to enter an electrical storm."

"Bad?" he asked.

"I would nail it down if it isn't already," she replied.

They both turned to the innocuous-looking platform on the floor.

****

ENGLISH COUNTRYSIDE, 1965

 

"Where are we?" Skye said over to Coulson.

They were both on the ground in a field, the platform underneath them.

There was a flash of light in the Bus and then a bright light. 

Now, they were here.

Coulson looked at his watch. It had stopped.

He frowned and took it off, threw it on the ground.

"1970s Heuer Carrera," he said, frustrated.

"Man!" Skye said. "Get yourself together! We can't leave any future stuff on the ground."

"I didn't want to steal the platform," Coulson said. "Doom probably only used it once a month, or something. And now, we've done this!"

"Okay," Skye said. "You're losing it."

"I don't like time travel!!!" he yelled, hopping up and down a bit.

Skye's eyes went wide. "You've done this before?"

"It was an accident," he said quietly. "I don't want to talk about it."

He crossed his arms and turned away from her. Started looking at their surroundings.

She went and picked up his watch, put it in her flack jacket.

"Light here is pretty soft," Coulson said. "Northern hemisphere.

"Farmland. Grass, maybe for sheep," he added. "Vegetation suggests regular rainfall."

"My cell doesn't work," Skye said with frustration, pocketing her phone.

"That barn," he said, looking in the distance. "We need to hide the time platform," Coulson said.

"Let's fold up the disco dancefloor of doom," she said.

 

****

The Doombot spoke in its delayed staccato to Mother.

"You will instruct them to retrieve the platform," it said.

"Yes, I will instruct them to retrieve the platform," said Mother.

He pushed his wheelchair over to the encoding machine.

On the floor his helper, Rhonda, was out cold, her hair a mess.

"Contain the others," said the Doombot. "Doom will deal with them."

 

****

 

"New orders," said Steed as the printout came from the slot in Emma's Lotus.

"Mmm," she said, spinning the car around in the dirt and heading back towards London.

"Not so fast," he added, holding on to his bowler. "America will have to wait," he yelled.

"But we do get to see some lovely countryside."

"Oh, a picnic, then?" asked Mrs. Peel, straightening the car.

"Couples, it looks like," said Steed.

"Delighted," she replied. "I shall ask you for the first dance."

"She is quite close to your age," he said. "Although, perhaps, less witty."

He smiled at her.

"And I'm sure he's dressed in all the latest fashions, perhaps a bit younger?"

Steed looked wounded.

"But less experienced," she added.

Steed managed to peel his eyes away to the piece of paper in his hand. "Fifty-one, American, highly unpredictable."

"Boxing gloves then," said Mrs. Peel. 

"Although, I do prefer an épée."

 

****

"What activates this thing?" Skye asked.

They were in the barn and smelled like the farm at this point after covering the time platform with hay.

"Power source," he said. "At least with as many amps as lightning," he added.

"Were you thinking of something...?" she asked.

"You mean before we came here?" he replied.

"Yeah," she answered.

"You brought up Cap. I was thinking of World War II."

"Fun," she remarked.

"What about you?" he asked, dusting off his suit pants.

"MLK arrested in Selma," she said.

Coulson smiled at her.

"This doesn't make sense," she said.

Coulson looked around the barn. Everything looked too basic, rudimentary.

"The Beatles," he said, his eyes widening.

"Help."

"Okay," said Skye, perplexed.

"When things go really bad," said Coulson, looking back at her. "The Beatles song 'Help' plays in my head."

They heard a honk outside of the barn and walked over to the entrance, peered at the car driving to the farmhouse.

"Lotus Elan," Coulson said. "1962 to 1971. British production," he breathed looking back at Skye.

"Are you turned on by that car?" she asked, trying not to laugh.

"Possibly," Coulson admitted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Avengers was a 60s British tv show that paired older sophisticated spy John Steed with his much younger, very chic, and very capable counterpart, Mrs. Peel.
> 
> Mother and his assistant are one of the heads of the spy agency in the Avengers.
> 
> Latveria is the homeland of Doctor Doom.
> 
> A Doombot is a robot replica of Doctor Doom that carries out his commands.
> 
> The Beatles' "Help" was released in 1965.
> 
> MLK was arrested in Selma, AL in 1965.


	2. Introductions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Avengers and the Agents meet.

"Hello," said Steed, tipping his hat.

The elderly couple were standing in the farmhouse door, looking over their attire.

"City folk?" the man asked.

"Just cosmopolitan," replied Mrs. Peel. "Have you taken delivery of any new items recently?"

"The milk," the woman rattled. "Lovely hat."

"Thank you," said Steed.

"Might we take a stroll around the farm?" he continued.

"Perhaps a turn at the plow?" suggested Mrs. Peel.

"Only if the soil is ready," said Steed, nonchalantly. "Otherwise, quite a bit of work."

"Barn is over there," waved the man, pointing towards it.

"And cover," said Mrs. Peel, looking slyly at Steed.

"Indeed."

 

****

"We should hide," said Coulson.

"What if we can't take them?" said Skye.

"You've been training," he said. "Just take a few moments, run through what May taught you."

"Right."

"If we're in the 60s, in the UK," he said, "They're going to have conventional firearms and their hand-to-hand is going to be pretty practical."

"So, street fight?" asked Skye.

"Only headbutt if you want to make them angry," he warned.

"Gotcha."

Skye climbed up to the loft and watched as Coulson hid himself in one of the horse stalls below, picking up a pitchfork.

The pair walked into the barn.

Skye thought it was kind of funny the guy was wearing a suit, just like Coulson. Except, taller, his black hat with the round shape.

The woman was sort of instantly cool. She had on a minidress that didn't really look very intimidating, but she moved in a very deliberate, very cat-like manner. Skye wanted her boots.

When they nodded to each other and she pulled out a gun, Skye shifted into agent mode.

The guy was just holding onto an umbrella of all things as the woman moved forward and put her back to the horse stall Coulson was in.

Skye crouched and jumped from the loft towards the man, surprised when he caught her and swung them both into the nearest haystack. She landed on her back as  
he leaned over, tipping his hat to her.

"Good afternoon," he said.

Skye turned when she heard fighting in the horse stall, sat up and pushed the awful charming man away and went for the stall when she felt something catch her ankle.

He was standing, smiling, her ankle in the hook of his umbrella.

"Apologies," he said.

"Yeah," she said, "Me too."

She slammed her foot down on the end of the umbrella, popping it out of his hand and grabbing it, shoving it into his sternum and sending him to the floor.

As she turned the corner, she found Coulson pinned against the wall, half-smiling at the woman with her arm across his neck.

"Hey!" said Skye, pointing the umbrella at her.

The woman turned towards her. "But we were already on our second drink," she said drolly. 

Skye felt something push the umbrella up and out of her hand and use it to restrain her. 

Coulson flipped the woman around and had his hand around her neck and her wrist. She dropped the gun.

"Judo?" she asked, impressed.

"Nope," he replied, coyly.

"Oh, do tell," she pried.

"Maybe," suggested Skye, "We can talk like civilized human beings?"

Coulson let Mrs. Peel free.

She rubbed her neck a little, stuck her hand out as he pick up the gun and returned it. They both smiled.

Steed dropped the umbrella and Skye looked at Coulson, frowned, turned to the man.

"John Steed," he said, extending his hand to her, palm up.

"Skye," she replied, giving him her hand.

His eyes were sparkling as he took her hand and kissed the top of it.

"Charmed," he said.

"Thanks for the roll in the hay," she said, motioning with her thumb towards the haystack. "Wow, that came out wrong."

"I prefer soft landings," he grinned. "After all, we've only just met."

"Ahem," said Mrs. Peel, clearing her throat.

Coulson's brow was furrowed as he stared over at Skye and Steed.

"Let's talk," he said.

 

****

"We were told by Mother to bring you both in," said Mrs. Peel to Skye as they drove along in her Lotus.

"Along with that platform." 

"'Mother'," she said, evading, "Is that your director?" 

"One of them," Peel replied. She looked Skye over.

"Where are you from?"

"The US of A," Skye replied.

"We'll send a car for Steed and Coulson, and then we'll dial Mother," she said. "And," she sighed, "We'll have to figure out your clothes. You can't be seen about London like that."

Skye looked down at her plaid shirt and jeans.

"It might be easier if you just told us where you're from and what that platform does."

Skye fluttered her eyes at the woman. "That's why I suggested we split up. We're working with you, not against you."

"Try telling that to Mother," she said. "But not until he's had his afternoon tea."

"Where can I get some of those?" Skye asked, looking down at Mrs. Peel's boots.

Emma gunned the accelerator.

****

"Blower Bentley," said Coulson, running his hands lovingly along the green car.

The driver got out and hopped onto the back of the motorcycle that had followed him in. Dressed identically, the two men rode off down the dirt road without a word.

"Who's your tailor?" he asked, eyeing Coulson's suit as they got in the car.

"Fifth Avenue," said Coulson vaguely. "Not as good as yours, though," he smiled at the other man.

"What do you drive when you're not stranded in the countryside?"

"'62 Chevy Corvette. Cherry red, white wall tires," Coulson smiled.

"Speed, then," said Steed. "A bit faster than the previous year?"

"She's completely tricked out," Coulson replied.

"Any chance you want to tell me where you're really from?" asked Steed, eyes on the road ahead.

"You don't know us," said Coulson, frowning. "But it's important that you trust us. That the item doesn't end up in the wrong hands."

"Hands other than yours," Steed said.

"Precisely."

****

Steed knocked and the two men entered Mrs. Peel's flat. She had changed into a black catsuit and was sipping on a glass of champagne.

"Wet your whistle?" she said to Coulson.

"No thanks," he smirked. "Where's Skye?"

"On the phone with Mother," Mrs. Peel said, staring back at Steed.

"Hmm," said Coulson, looked around the apartment. Appreciation for art. Refined. An intellectual's taste, but with a sense of humor. He would have definitely been interested in getting to know her under different circumstances.

Skye walked from the kitchen through to the living room. She was wearing an orange romper with her hair in a high ponytail.

"Mother wants to speak to you, Emma," she said, stopped when she saw Coulson's face.

"You like the boots?" she asked, showing off the black knee-high leather.

"They're alright," he lied.

"Told you," Skye said to Emma as she walked past her into the kitchen.

"Smashing," said Steed. "I might just have that champagne after all," he eyed Coulson before pouring himself a drink.

Skye put her flack jacket on over the suit.

"So," she said to Coulson.

"We hid the time platform," he said. "Only Steed and I know."

She nodded. "Mother," she said, looking over at Steed who was reading the paper, "Doesn't seem very helpful."

"What do you mean?" Coulson asked.

"She means," Mrs. Peel said, coming back through the door, "That Mother is not himself." 

She looked seriously over at Steed.

"Not at all."

"Did he have his afternoon tea?" asked Steed.

"Past tea time," said Emma, biting her lip.

"My concern," said Coulson. "Is that Mother even knew we were here to begin with."

"And would you perhaps like to share why that is?" she said, walking up close to him.

"He should have no way of knowing," he said.

Skye picked up the paper Steed put down, began reading it.

"Man, we can't help you if you leave us in the dark," Steed began, joining Emma.

"Good luck with that," tossed out Skye.

"Not helping!" said Coulson.

"Look at this," said Skye. Coulson walked over as she handed up the paper. Was she wearing makeup?

"Latverian Prime Minister to meet with Parliament."


	3. Deductions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skye and Coulson get trapped in 1965.

"It's not your people I'm worried about," said Coulson, peering around the corner, his firearm pointed down. It was clear.

"It's the other guy's."

"If Mother is being controlled," Mrs. Peel said. "He has access to all of our agents."

"Would they blindly follow orders?"asked Coulson. 

"Most definitely," said Mrs. Peel.

"Deja vu," he sighed, turning the corner.

"How do you feel about robots?" he asked her.

"I might be stunned if I didn't know so many already." 

"No," he said, "I really mean robots."

"Up for anything?" she smiled as they continued down the hall.

"Should we knock?" he raised his eyebrows.

"Lets," she said.

He kicked in the door.

The three agents inside stared back at them, taken off guard. It was a little old woman with a sewing kit and the two bike riding gents from earlier.

"Mrs. Kensington," said Mrs. Peel, nodding towards the little old lady. She nodded back.

"Mother told us to be expecting you," said one of the gents. 

"Said it was rude to keep Mother waiting," said the other in a heavy Cockney accent.

"Oh, bother," said Mrs. Peel, looking over at Coulson.

She jumped behind a file cabinet as Mrs. Kensington pulled a pistol from her sewing basket and shot at her.

The two men leapt at Coulson at once, trying to overpower him, he sidestepped one and socked the other one in the face.

"Bloody!" yelled the man.

The other gent grabbed him from behind, let his partner land one in Coulson's stomach.

****

"You seem a bit more of an open book," said Steed. "Than Coulson."

They were making their way to the roof stealthily via the fire escape. They were going in top down, and Coulson and Emma were bottoms up.

"Are you wanting to peek?" Skye said, arching her eyebrow at him.

"You can just give me the jacket notes." said Steed. "I sense any heavy reading is in another's hands."

He smiled very fondly at her.

Skye just shot him a dreadful look, tried not to smile. How could he?

"You're from a different time," he said.

Skye stared back at him. "I'm not going to answer that, so, in the future, I can still wish I'd told you," she said with a smirk.

Steed chuckled.

"Mrs. Peel is very modern. But you," he said. "Are right to the point."

"What else?" asked Skye, curiously.

"Your attire when we first met, boys clothes, but you are at ease in them, not wearing them to pass as a man," he added. "And you are of Asian and American descent, it would appear, a woman, most definitely, and your partner treats you like an absolute equal."

"Wow. Okay," she said. "What you're saying is that it sucks to be a woman here?"

"And your terminology is wildly vulgar," he added enthusiastically.

"You seem all right," she said as they reached the roof. All clear.

"Me?" he asked, heading for the rooftop door, grinning. 

"I'm positively old-fashioned."

*****

They all came together at the destined location, at the coordinates for Mother's office.

Coulson and Mrs. Peel had tied up the sullen agents and put them in the broom closet. 

Mrs. Peel had given Mrs. Kensington her knitting in the end.

After a thorough search, they found the entire place was completely empty.

"The platform," said Steed. "This was all to lure us away."

"If so, the question is, how could they have found it?" asked Coulson.

"Ugh, I just wish I had the internet," Skye said, crossing her arms.

Coulson shot her a look.

"What?" she said. "They know. They're not stupid!"

Coulson looked over at Mrs. Peel and Steed. "There are consequences to this sort of thing. There always are. Any little detail. The tiniest thing can change..."

"I have a plan," said Mrs. Peel, brightening.

They all looked at her.

"We go back to my place, dress for dinner and start the evening with cocktails at The Cromwellian."

Coulson couldn't even find words.

"A.C.," Skye said, looking over at him. "She's right. We are two steps behind. They'll come to us. They want something," she said seriously. "We need to figure out what that is."

"Great," he said. "I could use a drink, especially if I'm going to be stranded in 1965."

"That's the spirit old boy!" said Steed cheerfully.

Coulson just scowled back at him.

 

****

"The Animals are playing at Oxford Street," Mrs. Peel sighed, looking through the paper.

"Are you serious?!" asked Coulson.

Skye just laughed at Coulson who had gone from acting like the entire world had ended to practically jumping out of his new suit.

Steed had taken him to get outfitted at Pierre Cardin to cheer him up. 

"No clanging and banging for me tonight," replied Steed, not missing a beat, sipping his martini.

"Not a rock and roller?" Skye said, leaning over in her dress from her perch on the couch arm.

"No, but I'm eager to be persuaded," he said.

"On the merits of rock'n'roll?" asked Mrs. Peel, crossing the room to the bar, "Or by something up and coming?"

"Is anything the two of you say not about sex?" Skye announced out loud.

"Excuse us," Coulson grabbed her by her arm and led her outside to the balcony, sliding the glass door behind them.

"We need a strategy," he said. "But, first things first, I like that dress."

"Thanks," she said. "What's happening to you? I thought you hated time travel, I thought..."

"I dunno, it's weird," he answered. "Once I felt like we were trapped here, once we confirmed that the time platform was gone, it just felt like it was beyond my control."

"Yeah," she said. "Doom is toying with us."

"You think it's him?" he asked.

"Yes. Why did we end up here in the first place? I mean, the Latverian Prime Minister just happens to be here..."

"I don't remember the exact date, but Doom becomes dictator of Latveria at some point in the future, meaning..."

"And he uses time travel," she finished his thought.

They just stared at each other, happy to be alone to complete each other's thoughts for a moment.

"You want to know something funny?" asked Skye.

"What?" he smirked.

"That suit looks exactly like the suit you always wear." 

She put her hands on his lapels.

He put his hands over hers.

"We can't stay here, Skye," he started. "It's not good enough for you."

She met his eyes. The way he had said it. 

"We'll get back," she said. 

"In the meantime, you're not the Director of SHIELD," she said, "And it is the swinging 60s, so..."

"So," he said, letting his hands slide around her waist, his eyes brightening.


	4. Expectations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What if they never get home? What if Coulson doesn't have to be SHIELD? What if they go to an Animals concert in 1965?

"They might be awhile," sighed Emma, propping her hand under her chin using the back of the couch and watching Skye and Coulson kiss through the glass door of the balcony. 

Steed sat next to her, turned over his shoulder to look.

"Mmm," agreed Steed. "He appears to have lowered his guard. And there is only left death and taxes."

"Yes," said Mrs. Peel, turning back to Steed, their faces almost touching. "He looks positively miserable."

"I sympathize entirely with the man," he smiled, staring back into her eyes.

"I offered Skye a room," she asked. "But just the spare. I would hate to see Mr. Coulson left to the couch."

"What manners you have," Steed replied. "And me with a free room," he said, leaning in. "Might you consider, my dear Mrs. Peel?"

"A sleepover?" she asked, pressing her teeth together.

"A pajama party," he said.

"I don't think I have any pajamas," she considered, with a deep breath.

"Precisely," said Mr. Steed.

"Oh, hey," Skye said, sliding the glass door shut, grinning over at them. "Sorry, to keep you guys waiting."

"Nevermind that," said Emma, sighing.

Mr. Steed stood up. 

"Off to the races?" he asked, clapping his hands together.

****

"So much for keeping it all under wraps," said Mrs. Peel, taking a deep breath and watching as Coulson lifted Skye onto his shoulders.

"Eric Burdon you rock!" she yelled at the top of her lungs.

The guy on stage just stared back at her, hugging the microphone.

A camera flash bulb went off.

They heard Coulson utter a swear word and hike Skye down off of his shoulders as she smoothed down her dress.

"Not our best idea," he said to her quietly.

"Do you think they got a good shot? Should I get the camera?"

"Perhaps," Steed said watching, leaning against the wall and looking over at Mrs. Peel, "We could go grab a drink. It can be a real dive, with properly aged men and women who like their drinks stiff and their music nice and low."

"You mean ditch them?" Mrs. Peel asked, shocked.

The teenagers around them were in a fine state, flocked as close to the stage as humanly possible. 

"We couldn't possibly converse here," said Steed, leaning towards her.

"Maybe less conversation and more..." she began.

The rest was drowned out by the screaming of teenagers.

"Very well," she said raising her voice. "I think I must be getting old."

Steed smiled at her.

"Got a little carried away there," said Coulson, walking up.

"First time for everything," said Steed.

Skye rolled her eyes. He wasn't talking about the concert, of course.

"Getting to see The Animals become The Animals?!" Coulson said excitedly.

"Just ignore him," said Skye. "He's geeking out."

Emma went to say something, but decided against it. Her only reference for a geek was someone who bit off the heads of small fowl at the carnie and while Coulson was peculiar, he was not that brand of.

Instead she handed Skye the key to her flat.

"You're on your own," she said, smiling. "I've made other arrangements."

Coulson started to say something, thought better of it.

"Thanks again," said Coulson cheerfully, as Mrs. Peel and Steed headed for the exit.

"Who are they fooling?" said Skye.

"I don't think anything is going on. She's married."

"How do you know that?" Skye asked.

Coulson shrugged, smirked.

"Just gathering intelligence," he explained.

"Trust me," Skye said looking at Coulson. "There is plenty going on there."

****

Coulson and Skye walked along the Tower Bridge at night.

"We're broke, in the wrong time, and all we have is this housekey," Skye said holding the key in her hand, stopping to look out over the Thames.

"Yup," said Coulson.

Skye turned to him. Coulson was not looking at the Thames.

"I feel like we're out past curfew and Daddy Doom is going to come and bust us at any moment."

"Probably," said Coulson, shrugging.

"Wow, you're like a totally different man," she said. Confused. Enthralled.

"When we get back, are you going to snap into Director mode, Stretch Armstrong?" She really wasn't looking forward to that. Not before she could get to know this Coulson a lot better.

"It's a nice night," he said, looking around. "We're off the clock until something is dropped in our lap."

He leaned forward and put his forearms on the railing. "I'm trying to remember the last time something like this happened to me," he paused. "And, I can't."

"No responsibilities," she said. "No SHIELD."

"If we didn't make it back," he asked. "What would we do?"

She smirked over at him. He'd said 'we' like it was nothing.

"I'm not going to be your secretary," she started with an attitude. 

"No, no, nothing like that..." he waved his hand at her. "We can't go back to SHIELD, either. Can't interfere."

"What about going to some remote place and writing secret diaries to our future selves and living in the sticks until one day a Doombot arrives to take us home or kill us, or whatever?"

"That's a lot of free time, what would we do with all of it?" he asked.

Skye shook the key to Mrs. Peel's flat in front of him.

"Shall we dance?"

Coulson just laughed at the lack of subtlety. 

"That's funny?" she asked, slightly offended.

"Just kicking myself a little," he said. "For not throwing out protocol from day one."

He stared back at her, making sure she understood.

"Day one, huh?" she asked.

"Day one," he said slowly, intentionally.

"Yeah," she said, thinking back. "You did come on a bit strong with Lola and the whole hovercar thing and 'I'll make you an offer you can't refuse'," she did a mocking version of robot Coulson.

"That wasn't manufactured, Skye," he said, the grin starting at the corner of his mouth. But, he really wanted her to continue. He wanted to hear this.

"Let's drop off Ace together in the countryside, like it's the happiest ending, ever," she said, affecting a manly pose, "And then I'll wear that light grey suit and show you my, frankly, rather sexy car," she added that in her own voice. "And make wild promises about how, if you come with me, an amazing future lies ahead."

"You were right. I am cool," said Coulson. "It was all true." A beat. "Right?"

Skye laughed at him. So smug.

"We have things to do back there," she said, throwing her arms around his neck, thinking about the possibilities.

"We have things to do right here," he replied, thinking about the possibilities.

Skye pushed herself forward on her tiptoes and kissed him, hard. She felt the muscles in his shoulders tighten, his hands going for her waist like before. 

The balcony kiss was nice, but, it was an introduction, and he thought of them as a 'we' and had completely confessed to wanting her right from the start and now it was definitely going to get a lot more interesting.

"Doom requires your presence."

Skye ignored the voice, felt Coulson's mouth open up to hers. Oh, yes. Yes!

"Doom requires your...."

"Oh, screw you!" said Skye, breaking their kiss and throwing the housekey at the Doombot.


	5. Inevitabilities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end!

They were hanging upside down, in the dark, in nothing but their skivvies, suspended from the ceiling with rope.

"I'm not going to pass out!" yelled Skye for the second time.

"Good," he said. "I might."

The door below them opened, and they saw the shadow cast along the floor.

Another Doombot?

No, it was too sleek, too stealthy.

It was Mrs. Peel.

"Hullo?" she called out. "Agent Coulson...Skye?"

Steed flipped on the light switch as Skye and Coulson squinted.

"My," said Emma.

"Cut us down?" asked Coulson, wanting to get this over with.

"We brought some clothing, there was some disturbing news on the telly," said Steed. "But, no knives, I'm afraid."

"Two someones wearing your clothing assassinated the Latverian Prime Minister during his breakfast," said Mrs. Peel. "Face down in his own crumpet."

Coulson groaned.

"This is exactly what I meant when I said..."

"Hey, Skye called out, "Do you have my jacket with all the pockets?"

"The one," said Steed holding it up.

"There's a watch in there. It has a laser beam on it."

"Here it is," said Steed, drawing it out. "Nice timepiece. Now, what do I..."

****

Steed handed Coulson the paper, the front headline said "Agents of Chaos" and showed a picture of Skye on Coulson's shoulders surrounded on all sides by teenage girls, next to a blurry picture of two people in the same clothing leaving the Latverian PM's hotel next to a third stock image of what they supposed were to be rioting Latverians.

"He used us," Coulson said, infuriated.

"Who is 'he'?" asked Mrs. Peel.

"In the next decade," began Coulson, "Latveria will erupt into a civil war. The military will attempt to take control and one man will rise to power on a promise of peace. He'll rule the country with an iron fist and cause international chaos. He makes Mussolini look like the Tooth Fairy."

"Perhaps this is how it always happened," said Steed. "The flow of history intact."

"Can't say," said Coulson. "I'm a little foggy on the trigger sequence."

"And we're stuck here," Skye said, looking over at him. "He got what he wanted, and now we're fugitives."

"We can help you get out of the country," said Mrs. Peel. 

"Probably right away would be best," said Coulson. "Your agency will be hunting us. Destroy anything that might seem like evidence, I don't want you guys implicated in this. Tell them we kidnapped you, make it sound good."

"Sorry, darling," Steed said, putting his hand on Skye's shoulder. "I wish we were parting under more pleasant circumstances."

"Any suggestions?" Coulson asked. "Some place where we can slip in, get under the radar. Maybe some ex-agency around, make ourselves useful."

"Tahiti," said Mrs. Peel. "It's the current haunt. Lots of tourists, hiding in plain sight and all that."

Coulson just nodded, raised his eyebrows. "Of course it is."

Skye walked over to him, gently grabbed his hand. 

"Right," he said, staring back at her. 

"Take the train to port," said Mrs. Peel, Steed nodded his agreement,"Then by ship to Tahiti," she said.

"Just pretend you're tourists," said Steed. "We'll do some work here to throw them off the scent."

"Newlyweds," said Mrs. Peel cheerfully. "Public displays of affection always make people dreadfully uncomfortable."

"Thanks. We'll do our best," said Coulson.

****

Skye kissed Emma on both cheeks and gave Steed a simple kiss on one. 

Mrs. Peel grabbed Coulson by the tie and kissed him briefly on the mouth.

They waved them away as they got onto the train.

"I think you rather enjoyed that," said Steed.

"Something to be said for a good old fashioned right cross," she sighed.

"I suppose mine does need a bit of work," he replied, swinging his umbrella. 

"Your right cross is fine," she said. "There is, after all, only one John Steed."

"No Steedbots for you then," he grinned.

"Mmm...on second thought..."

****

Skye shut the curtains for their train compartment.

"They were nice," Skye said, shrugging off her flack jacket. "I wish we could keep them."

She turned and sat in the seat. Stared for a second at the wall, her mind already going to: what now?

Biting her lip, she turned to look over at him.

Coulson was sitting across from her his chin slightly raised, watching.

They met in the middle, bodies clashing for a moment, her hands tangled in removing his suit jacket, his mouth trying to make it to the crook where her neck and shoulder met. 

The jacket hit the floor, then the tie. She wasn't slow or gentle about removing it. 

He was biting his lip, his hands at the edge of her shirt hem, eyes bright and glazed over.

Instead he pulled her to him, opened his mouth and slid his hand up the inside of her shirt as she gasped.

"I need this," she breathed. "I need this so badly."

"I need you," he said. "Right now." 

His hand inside her shirt went under the wire of her bra, his fingers splayed out over her breast.

There was a flash of light. And they both turned. 

The Time Platform was just sitting there.

Skye pulled her shirt down, rasping, furious.

"He keeps doing that!"

Coulson wiped his mouth and pulled on his suit jacket. Grabbed his tie.

"Let's go," he said, taking her hand and as she grabbed her jacket they stepped onto it.

 

****

They were standing in a dark room in a castle. A throne room. 

There was a little bit of a draft. 

They stepped off of the Time Platform.

A simple light panel on and they felt alone except the shifting of the figure in shadow bringing his face into the light.

"So, what now?" Coulson asked. It sounded bitter, stinging. "Did you get everything you wanted?"

He tented the fingers of his metal gloves together, said nothing in reply.

"All that trouble for an assassination," Skye said. "Why didn't you just hire a couple of HYDRA goons?"

"Things are rarely as they seem," he finally said. His voice absolutely filled the room. "Doom the younger needed an alibi to an event that would set in motion a series of events. And, I needed SHIELD to receive the blame. The necessity of their viewing these things as beyond their control, looking forward into the 21st century. They are nothing but a chess piece to be wielded by superior players."

He leaned forward. "Simply: I wanted SHIELD to know fear."

"The tip we got about the time platform, that was you," Coulson said.

"Yes. Only I can active the time platform. It was Doom. Always, Doom."

Skye rolled her eyes.

That got his attention, he rose to his feet, swept his cape out of the way as he descended.

"And now you will fear me as well," Doom said. "Rebuild as you like. Just remember. You are mere puppets."

"No, there's something else," Coulson said. "Something you're not telling us."

"You will be of use to me, yet," said Doom icily, speaking over his shoulder to Coulson. 

Skye could see his disfigured skin around the eye and mouth holes beneath his mask.

"Great, so, you owe us then," she said. "A lot, it sounds like."

He turned on her as she crossed her arms at him.

"Is he squinting at you?" asked Coulson, cocky, leaning towards him. "Because, I think he is, I can't tell..."

"Silence!" commanded Doom.

A Doombot entered the room with a silver tray, its metal feet clacking against the stone floor. 

Doom assented and it held it out in front of Coulson and Skye.

"Take it," said Doom.

He walked away and resumed his seat on the throne.

"Two first class train tickets from Latveria to Italy?" Coulson shook his head. There was an envelope with a lot of money alongside.

"You may leave," said Doom.

"We don't want your help," said Skye. 

"Did we change the future?" Coulson asked warily.

"We shall see," replied Doom.

****

Skye sat down in the train car her arms crossed.

"I don't want to spend his dirty money," she said. "I don't want to be on this train."

"Then, let's get off," he said, shrugging.

"What if he's still manipulating us?" she asked sliding her foot out of her boot. He smiled.

"We have no control over any of that," he said. "This is all way beyond me."

"Do you think we changed the future?" she asked.

She stood after slipping both boots off and slid out of her flack jacket, turned towards her bunk.

"Relax," he said, his hands rubbing her shoulders.

She sighed, tilted her chin up to the ceiling. "That's nice."

His mouth was warm and wet on her shoulder.

"3...2...1..." said Skye.

"Why are you counting?" he asked.

"Just waiting for the Doombot to pop out."

"I don't think we have to worry about that for awhile, we..." Coulson's words drifted off.

"What?" she asked turning back around to him when his hands left. He was sitting down on his bunk.

"He wants this. He wants this to happen," he said quietly, staring through her at the wall.

"Wants what to happen?"

"This!" Coulson said, motioning between them. 

"This whole elaborate scheme was designed to get us in bed together?" she asked, disbelieving, and trying really hard not to laugh at him.

"No, maybe, I don't know," he said. "This is why I hate time travel."

"Well, we're going to oblige him," she said, stepping in between his knees and tilting his face up to her. She smoothed out the furrow in his brow with her thumb.

"Can we oblige him a lot?" Coulson pleaded, his hands on her hips.

"Yes."

She sunk onto his lap, running her mouth over his, smiling as his hips bucked upwards.

He fairly ripped her shirt right off her body, sending her hair tumbling down in a mess all over her shoulders.

"Phil," she whispered, her lips grazing his mouth.

"I'm gonna make you say that a hundred different ways," he said, holding her face in his hands, looking into her eyes.

She gripped the front of his shirt, pulled him into her, hesitated, her tongue swiping his lower lip.

"Dammit," he said. "I might not make it to one hundred."

She smiled against his mouth, it opened, she took advantage. 

Then, he did. 

****

"Maybe something to do with the GH-325?" he said. He turned toward her. 

They were squished together in the tiny bunk, barely sharing the top sheet.

His hand was intertwined with hers. He was newly fascinated by her fingers, kept staring at them in between his own. They had been in front of him for ages, he'd just never noticed how much he liked their shape.

"Are you still thinking about Doom?" she said, shifting to her side.

He wanted to lie, but it was going to be very hard to hide anything from her at this point. It already had been. 

"Stop it," she said.

"I can't," he replied.

She sighed.

"What if it's..." he stopped himself.

"What?" she said. "What?" she said it more gently and ran her hand over his forehead.

"What if we have some, like, amazing superhero kid," he was saying it in a rush, "And it saves the world and stuff and Doom needs it?"

Skye's mouth dropped open. "Hold on a minute Mr. Incredible, don't go planning out the whole future just yet."

She laughed at him, flopped on her back.

Phil bit his lower lip.

"This is what you were thinking about earlier, when you said you hated time travel."

"Yeah," he answered, wincing a little.

"A few days ago, you said you had a time travel accident, is this the kind of accident you were talking about?" she asked pointedly.

"No," he said, irritated. "No."

She looked over at him with her eyes. He was shaking his head at her.

"Just checking," she said, teasing.

"We should stop talking about this, you're right," he said.

"Just one, huh?" she asked after a moment of silence.

"One what?"

"Kid."

He thought about it, frowned seriously as she rolled on top of him, pinning his hands against the bed.

"Just exactly who are you planning on being married to?"

He stared up at her, tried to get loose. Skye raised an eyebrow.

"Come here," he said.

"Come and get me."

**Author's Note:**

> The Avengers was a 60s British tv show that paired older sophisticated spy John Steed with his much younger, very chic, and very capable counterpart, Mrs. Peel.
> 
> Mother and his assistant are one of the heads of the spy agency in the Avengers
> 
> A Doombot is a robot replica of Doctor Doom that carries out his commands.
> 
> The Beatles' "Help" was released in 1965.
> 
> MLK was arrested in Selma, AL in 1965.


End file.
